April marks two years since the publication of the report “The Natural Environment and Climate Change in Advertising and Media Communications”—prepared by Lata Dwudzieste and Semiotic Solutions in cooperation with Kantar Media. The report was one of the first comprehensive attempts to capture how culture and advertising talk about ecology—and how far these narratives diverge from real-world challenges.
Two years on: does EKO ECHO still reflect reality?
The report described a world in which ecology had already become ubiquitous in communication, yet remained fragmented in meaning. On one hand, there were eco-utopias—grand, often overly idealistic visions of the future and “saving the planet.” On the other, eco-practices—concrete actions and everyday habits. Alongside them were eco-experiences and eco-profits: narratives built around pleasure, lifestyle, or simply… saving money.
This map of narratives proved remarkably accurate. The question is: does it still hold today?
Between declaration and regulation
Back in 2024, the report pointed to an approaching “regulatory tsunami”—a wave of new EU legislation aimed at bringing order to communication chaos and curbing greenwashing. Today, it’s clear this was no exaggeration. ESG is no longer optional; it has become a requirement. Environmental communication is no longer a space of creative freedom—it is increasingly a regulated domain.
This marks a fundamental shift. Just two years ago, brands could build “green narratives” on emotions and aspirations. Today, they are increasingly expected to ground them in data, evidence, and verification.
Does this signal the end of eco-utopias? Not necessarily. Rather, their transformation.
Ecology: from myth to manual
The report showed that much of society’s understanding of ecology comes from media and advertising. That remains true—but the role of these messages has evolved.
Today, culture doesn’t just talk about ecology—it explains it. Grand narratives are being replaced by instructions: how to live, what to choose, how to reduce impact. We are seeing a surge in educational and how-to formats.
It’s a shift from storytelling to practicality.
But are we losing something in the process? By turning ecology into a checklist, are we stripping it of its imaginative power?
Advertising between honesty and suspicion
One of the report’s strongest conclusions was the scale of distrust: most people believe brands engage in environmental efforts primarily for commercial reasons.
Two years later, it’s hard to argue that this distrust has diminished. If anything, awareness of greenwashing has increased. Audiences have learned to read messages more critically—often against the grain.
The result? Brands face a paradox: they need to say more about ecology, yet every word is subject to greater scrutiny.
Will the answer be silence? Or a new language—more modest, less spectacular, but more credible?
Culture: between catastrophe and hope
The report captured a key tension between two dominant narratives: the catastrophic (“save the planet”) and the utopian (“we will build a better world”). Today, that tension has only intensified.
On one hand, we see an escalation of crisis imagery. On the other, a growing need for hopeful visions that enable action rather than fear.
Increasingly, a third path is emerging: pragmatic narratives. They promise neither salvation nor doom, but show how to navigate reality.
Is this becoming the dominant code of ecological culture?
Questions for the years ahead
Two years ago, EKO ECHO aimed to bring order to chaos. Today, that chaos hasn’t disappeared—it has simply taken a different form.
Instead of clear answers, the report leaves us with questions that feel even more urgent today:
Can advertising be a credible source of knowledge about ecology?
Will regulation stifle creativity—or push it toward greater maturity?
Does culture need more utopias, or more instructions?
And finally: is climate change still a topic of communication—or already a condition that reshapes all communication?
One thing is certain: the report remains freely available—and worth revisiting. Not to find answers, but to see how much the questions themselves have changed.